The Horrors: Novelization of Outlast and Outlast Whistleblower
by BHAMMER2
Summary: When Waylon Park sends a tip to Journalist Miles Upshur about the cruel experiments carried out by the Murkoff Corporation at Mount Massive Asylum, both men's lives are changed forever. With Waylon trying to escape and Miles trying to expose the truth, both men need to use all their wits to survive from the secret, as well as the crazed inmates who try to stop them.


_"September 17, 2013 _

_From: 10260110756 _

_To: Milesupshur _

_Subject: TIP/Illegal Activity at Murkoff Psychiatric Systems_

"_You don't know me. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring._

_I did two weeks of Software Consult for MURKOFF Psychiatric Systems at Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA's I'm breaking right now, but seriously, fuck those guys._

_Terrible things going on here._ _Don't understand it. Don't believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therapy going too deep, finding something that had been waiting for them in the mountain. People are being hurt and Murkoff is making money._

_It needs to be exposed."_

Don't even ask me why I thought this was a good idea at all. To be honest, I kinda knew that sending that email meant I was fucked, but what happened next, I don't think anyone saw. Back then, I was 23, young and naïve. I had a wife and two young kids back at home. I don't even know what persuaded me to join Murkoff, I guess I was lured in by all the money offered. Bad move. Now, here I was, sending that damn email.

I was just finishing this email when I heard footsteps just outside the server room. I was almost praying that it wasn't Steve, my boss, or even worse, Mr Blaire, his boss. Steve was a no nonsense sort of guy, and I didn't hate him, but Mr Blaire was arrogant, sadistic, and only cared about money and making profit.

I just finished the email when I heard the door open and a man ask:

"Who's in here?"

In a panic, I sent the email, and pushed the laptop into the darkness of the other side of the table. Getting out of my seat, I peeked round the corner, and to my relief, it was just a colleague, and not one of my bosses. Seeing me, he asked:

"Park? Where have you been? They've paged for you three times already. There's something urgent going on at the Engine."

As I apologized and walked past him, he tried to interrogate me by asking why I was in there. Feigning annoyance, I brushed past him without saying another word. He seemed to buy it, and he walked off. I initially doubted whether I was needed at the Engine, but the PA system and the man at the desk proved my doubts wrong. Opening a door, I proceeded to the Engine, where my boss, Steve, was standing in his normal position, with his hands on his hips. As I headed to my space, a Scientist filled me in on what was happening,

"Ah, Park. You're cutting it close, the next patient's incoming and Arterial Spin is still dark. We need you at the front terminal."

I approached the front terminal, with Steve ordering the men to page me again, and that I had fifteen seconds to keep my job, as the next patient, a man named Gluskin, was out of his cell, and on his way to the spheres. Steve saw me, and I wasted no time in sitting down and getting to work.

"Park, finally, where have you been? The Functional Imaging Interface isn't talking to the ASL. We've got a patient 30 seconds out and we're blind inside his head." He explained.

"I could call into the Chamber, ask them to delay…?"

"No. I don't need another performance evaluation. Mr Park here is going to have us up and running before we even know it. Isn't that right Mr Park?"

Oh God. That's the last thing I need. Pressure. Still, I fought on against the number of Viruses and Errors that stood in my way. However, when I thought I'd done it, I heard this:

"Uh, Steve? fMRI is still dark."

Steve questioned his belief in me, calling it more than unkind to my programming skill and dedication to the Murkoff Corporation. If I had any loyalty to Murkoff, I wouldn't have sent that email anyway though, wouldn't I?

"Fuck me, their bringing him in."

So this was Gluskin, obviously strong obviously big. Not the biggest, but he also had dome decent looks, and I found it hard to tell how a man like him could end up in the state he was then. His sanity was virtually non-existent, as evidenced by his cries,

"I knew it was coming. You filthy fucking machines! You fucking machines! No! No, not again. No! No! Jack-booted fucks, I know what you've been doing to me. I know what you've been... Help! Help me! Help me, they're going to rape me! Rape! Rape!"

The guards were having a tough time restraining him, but this struggle was buying me time. Suddenly, Gluskin broke free, and ran straight towards us. The others, having probably been in this situation before, stayed calm and stayed put, however, I was startled, and jumped out of my chair like a scalded cat.

"Help me! Don't let them do this! Don't let them! You! I know you can stop this! You have to help me! You have to..."

The guards got hold of him and dragged him into his sphere, giving me sufficient time to get the Arterial Spin Labelling back online. Steve congratulated me, and said he would write an honest review of my performance.

I left the Engine heading straight for the Server room. But when I got there, things didn't seem right. Especially the door. I could've sworn I left the door wide open, and yet, here it was, slightly ajar. At the time, I barely recognized this, and this proved to be my downfall. Entering the server room, I heard him,

"Somebody's been telling stories outside of class."

Mr Blaire. Accompanied by a load of guards. One of them shoved me to the floor, as Mr Blaire spoke in his usual sadistic, mocking tone,

"Mr. Waylon Park, consulting contract 8208. Software engineer with a level 3 security clearance. Graduated cum laude from Berkley, but still somehow not smart enough to realize that the last thing a fly ought to do in a spider's web is to wiggle."

"Somehow dumb enough to think that a borrowed laptop, onion router, and firewall patch would be enough to fool the world's leading supplier of biometric security. Stupid, Mr. Park. More than stupid, in fact, that was crazy. I'm afraid that we're going to have you committed. Mr. Park, will you willingly submit to forced confinement? Did you hear that, agent?"

"He said yes, Mr Blaire."

"Great. Oh, and... Did I just hear Mr. Waylon Park volunteer for the Morphogenic Engine program?"

"He said yes."

"That was brave, indeed, Waylon. The Murkoff Corporation and the onward march of science both appreciate your bravery and sacrifice. Maybe you could administer Mr. Park here a light anesthetic?"

"With Pleasure."

And with that, I was greeted with a barrage of kicks and punches until I was out cold. If only I'd realized the dangers sooner. Instead, my life was fucked.


End file.
